


we could live like legends (no turning back)

by writing_as_tracey



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Comic Book Violence, F/M, Gen, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 14:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_as_tracey/pseuds/writing_as_tracey
Summary: By day, she’s a straight-A student and a cheerleader. By night, she wears pink spandex and tries to save the world.At thirteen, Betty Cooper’s powers activated and she decided her calling was the pursuit of truth, honour, and justice. So far, it’s been going okay – she’s got the powers, the mission, and the costume. She intends to stick to the first rule of being a superhero religiously: keep your identity secret, although it’s a bit difficult with new transfer student Jughead Jones following her around and trying to unmask her.





	we could live like legends (no turning back)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ruelle’s [Live Like Legends](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0vKCAWVGKM).
> 
> This is an exercise for me to put all my PhD research into a fictional format (my field is comic book studies, if that's not obvious lol), as also a way for me to see if I actually am remembering my content and material properly. The reference Betty makes to 'power, mission, identity' comes from theorist Peter Coogan, who says that in order to be classified as a 'superhero' one must check those three boxes.

*

  


 I:

_Accept the things you cannot change. Have the courage to change the things you can. And have the wisdom to know the difference._

\- Nora Allen, _the Flashpoint Paradox_ (2013), DC Animated Film

* * *

By day, she’s a straight-A student and a cheerleader. By night, she wears pink spandex and tries to save the world.

She wasn’t always this way – once, she was what society would consider a “normal” girl. She only worried about impressing Archie Andrews, her next door neighbour and best friend _and_ crush, whether or not her mother was going to expect perfection from her on any given day, and if this was going to be _the_ year that Cheryl Blossom didn’t embarrass her horribly in front of her peers.

(The answer to all of the above is: still worrying; daily perfection required; and yes – Cheryl is going to embarrass her. Again.)

It is the start of her sophomore year, and here she is, after school, nervously standing off to the side of the track field with a bunch of other hopeful skinny girls in skimpy gym clothes. Kevin is the only male in the vicinity not in Riverdale Bulldog uniform, leaning against the gym rafters behind where she is standing, his arms hanging loosely over and his body folded across the metal barrier.

“This is going to go so wrong,” mutters Betty, eyes darting back and forth as she takes in Cheryl Blossom in all her cherry-red glory, striding up and down the row of girls trying out for the four vacant cheerleading spots on the River Vixens team. As a second-tier cheerleader, Betty is almost one-hundred guaranteed a position, but like all other second-string members, she has to re-tryout.

“It’s only going to go wrong if you let it,” answers Kevin from behind her.

“Why am I even doing this again?” she asks, bringing a hand up to tug on her ponytail. “Why do I put myself through this particular extracurricular activity?”

“Because you wanted to,” he answers, his words rote to previous conversations they have had, but he’s distracted. “And you said it looks good on college applications by having a sport in addition to academics and you can’t put down ‘crime fighting,’ and ‘kicking ass,’ on college applications.”

Betty turns and notices that his eyes are off, focused on the football team, and she scowls. “Seriously?” she follows his line of sight and sees that he’s mooning over Chuck Clayton. “Oh my, God – Kev! Really? _Chuck_ _Clayton_?”

“What?” he replies, not moving his eyes from the junior.

She frowns. “You think he’s hot, don’t you?”

Only then does Kevin tear his eyes away. “Well... yeah. Don’t you?”

“His personality outweighs his appearance.”

Truthfully, Betty _loathes_ Chuck Clayton, ever since the first dance of freshman year when he hit on Ethel Muggs, pretended to be nice by asking her to the dance, and then horribly embarrassed her in front of all their classmates by attending instead of Cheryl Blossom. Betty shared three classes with Ethel and found the girl sweet, so she was righteously upset on her behalf.

She may have fried the battery in Chuck’s brand new car in retaliation.

Six times.

In a row.

Even now, thinking back on the event, she chuckles to herself. Most of the time, her powers are more frustrating than helpful. She can’t levitate, or read minds, or turn into an animal – mostly, she gives a horrible frizz to her hair when she accidentally shocks herself (or Kevin), and she can’t be anywhere near metal during thunderstorms. But sometimes, her powers _are_ helpful – like, for frying car batteries, or jump-starting them, or getting people’s attention with a static shock.

Cheerleading can be a problem though, and she’s shocked her lift partners Cricket O’Dell and Midge Klump more times than either girl cares for. Despite that, she remains on friendly terms with them and they’ve grown to anticipate the static buildup around Betty.

(Still, it’s frustrating.)

 “Alright, bitches,” shouts Cheryl, stopping in front of the middle of the clump of girls, cocking her hips out to one side and resting one hand on her hip, too, for emphasis. Standing around her is her first-string tier of cheerleaders, including her older sister, Polly. “Evie Callahan is no longer HBIC, having graduated last year. She’s passed the title of captain to me – and I have _exacting_ standards.”

Her eyes coolly survey the group, and land on Betty.

“Oh, no,” she whispers.

“Bettiekins,” she coos, and Betty represses a shiver. “Why don’t you come up here and help me demonstrate?”

“Good luck,” whispers Kevin, his eyes worried. Betty slowly walks forward, wondering what her punishment will be.

She comes to a stop before Cheryl, glancing only briefly at Polly who sends her a tiny smile. Surely, Cheryl won’t embarrass her horribly in front of her sister and the rest of the cheer squad? She looks at Cheryl and _knows_ , that yes, Cheryl _will_ make this as painful as possible.

She begins by addressing the new girls for the tryouts. “Betty here was in the same position as you last year, zeroes. She’s the Cinderella story you all aspire to – and if there is anyone who can tell you what it’s like working under me, it’s her.

“Betty,” she says turning to her, “I want you to show these girls what – _perfection_ – looks like. Run through the routine that we do for the opener of football season?”

 _You bitch,_ she thinks. Because the opener for football season is a difficult and sexy routine, that Betty did not nail. In fact, last year, she was set to do a lift and resulted in her and Midge on the ground in a tangled heap and Cheryl very upset.

“Of course, Cheryl,” she replies. The words themselves are honeyed and sweet, but her tone is decidedly not.

Ginger Lopez starts up an iPod playlist, and Betty begins to loosen her muscles by rolling her neck and shoulders.

The thing is – ever since she gained her powers, she’s gained superior balance and athleticism, because almost dying makes that happen. But to keep everyone from realizing what happened to her, she’s downplayed her powers for years. She doesn’t want to anymore, because she is tired of being Cheryl’s doormat.

She clenches her hands into fists, narrowing her eyes at the redheaded girl, with her pouty lips and wide smile as she laughs with Ginger and Tina, fully expecting her to fail. Her nails pierce her skin and the sting brings her back. She’s not going to fail – she’s going to ace the routine.

An upbeat tempo turns on from the portable speaker Ginger uses, and Betty swings her hips and begins the routine, muscle memory overtaking everything else. She vaguely notes Kevin standing to attention in the bleachers, Cheryl’s bright red mouth dropping open in surprise, and the pleased look on Polly’s face.

It isn’t until she breathlessly finishes the flawless routine that she also notes the back of a denim jacket, quickly edging behind the bleachers and disappearing back to the school.

* * *

“What. Was. That?” demands Kevin immediately once River Vixen cheer practice is over. Cheryl has no choice but to promote Betty to first tier after her flawless performance, and she exits the girls’ locker room with a euphoric high.

“What was what?” she asks in return, playing dumb.

Kevin, incredulous, stops Betty in her tracks by placing a hand on her shoulder and staring down at her. She feels vaguely annoyed at his towering height over her – and _she_ is the one with the superpowers.

“Betty,” he says, eyes wide, “When all _this_ —” he vaguely gestures at her “—happened, we both decided – together – that you would keep this a secret. Keep everything a secret.”

Betty frowns. “I haven’t said anything that would jeopardize my existence, Kev.”

“No?” he asks, drawing back. “Then please explain to me what cheer practice was. Because that? That was some crazy Wonder Woman shit, Betty. You nailed a double _backflip_. You could barely do a handstand when the school year ended.”

“I went to cheer camp?” she asks, lifting a shoulder to emphasize her point as a mock-shrug.

“Cheer camp?” replies Kevin, incredulously. “Okay, then, Torrence Shipman, is Polly going to back you up on that?”

Betty winces. “I’ve covered for Polly enough. She owes me something.”

Kevin maintains a hard stare for a minute or two, and then sighs. “Betty Cooper. What am I going to do with you?”

“Walk with me to Pop’s?” she suggests innocently, and then her best friend is smiling and shaking his head. Their walk is punctuated with gossip Kevin picked up throughout the day regarding their classmates and summer plans, as well as gentle ribbing regarding her plans for Archie Andrews.

“Is this finally going to be the year?” he asks, a grin on his face as they step into Pop’s.

She shrugs demurely, coyly looking at her friend from under her lashes. “Maybe, maybe.”

They slide into a booth, and quickly order a meal, beginning their first-day-back homework. It is only after a few hours, once their homework is done and their meals polished, does Kevin bring up the most important aspect of her life.

Because she’s not just a high school student. She’s a superhero, too.

They are waiting at the till to pay for their meal, with Pop busy behind in the kitchen and the waitresses serving tables. Kevin leans in, and whispers, “Am I listening in on the radio this evening?”

Betty twirls the end of her ponytail in her finger and nods. Where she’s Kim Possible, he’s her Ron Stoppable.

Kevin leans away again, and Pop comes over to run up their bill. They pay in cash for Kevin and debit for her, and turn to leave once they both receive their receipts. As they do so, she bumps into someone.

“Excuse me!” she says, “I’m so sorry.”

The teen she bumps into mumbles something back, his denim jacket brushing past her. She stops and stares at the back of his head, taking in the wavy black hair that peeks out from underneath a grey knitted beanie.

_I’ve seen that jacket before. Where?_

“Betty, are you coming?” asks Kevin, holding open the door for her.

She pulls her eyes from the denim-clad figure, slouching down in the booth she and Kevin vacated, his back to her. “Yeah,” she calls, and follows Kevin out the door, firmly pushing the teen to the back of her mind.

* * *

Kevin sends her the text at one that morning, waking her from a light doze. Her room is dark, a sliver of light coming from a part in her curtains from a streetlamp. She fumbles and reaches for her phone on her bedside table, unlocking it, and blearily reading his text.

_Dead body found by Sweetwater River._

A _dead body_. In _Riverdale_.

She sits up quickly. The sleep washes from her quickly as the words rumble about her brain. Nothing bad happens in Riverdale – she usually has to travel to Greendale to deal with assault and minor thefts.

 She springs out of bed and finds her superhero costume, something Kevin kindly helped sew for her, tucked at the bottom of a duffle bag at the back of her closet. It’s behind a very poufy and pink dress she’s never worn—and plans on wearing to the upcoming Homecoming Dance—, so she is sure her mother hasn’t looked there yet.

Betty strips off her camisole and shorts, wriggling into the tight black leggings that hug her figure. She puts on a comfortable sports bra and a pink turtleneck-styled ribbed tank top. Finally, she zips up the black repurposed motorcycle jacket, formfitting and durable, with plastic buttons instead of metal, with a pair of matching leather gloves. The entire outfit covers her from fingertips to toes and to her nose.

She sits on her bed to lace up her thick ankle boots and ties up her hair into a tight bun. Her last item is the excess fabric from the turtleneck. She and Kevin had debated how to hide her identity and they compromised on the cowl stretching up to cover the bottom half of her face; it is similar to Elektra’s face mask in the _Daredevil_ comics, leaving only her vibrant green eyes visible, oft framed by dark kohl and heavy mascara.

With a quick glance around her room, she tilts her head and listens to any sounds of movement. Hearing none, Betty slides her bedroom window open, glancing automatically to the window level with hers in the house opposite. The curtains are closed and there is no light on in Archie Andrews’ bedroom, and the street is quiet.

Slowly, she eases onto the ledge and swings herself around, feet easily finding the grooves of the lattice that climbs up the side of the house for the creeping vines her mother planted years before. Betty is sure she never intended the greenery to be used quite this way, though.

Once her feet hit the ground, she takes off at a dash, jogging down the street, past the Andrews house, and then around the corner, where Kevin is waiting in his father’s old truck, the car idling. She climbs in and as soon as she slams the door shut, Kevin is peeling away from the corner, cruising them down familiar streets.

“I’m going to let you off near the Sweetwater Bridge,” he says, “It’s not too close that the car is recognizable.”

She nods, breathing deeply and centering herself. He glances at her from the corner of his eye. “Are you okay?”

“Are _you_?”

He frowns. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s Riverdale,” she answers, “We don’t have dead bodies lying about.”

Kevin shrugs lightly, tapping the steering wheel in nervousness. “I’m not sure. There wasn’t much chatter on the radio, so I’m a bit worried, actually. What if it’s someone we know?”

“Is this just a recon mission then?” asks Betty, a tiny smile on her lips. “Intelligence gathering?”

He rolls his eyes in response. “Yes, Nancy Drew. Recon only.”

Soon they reach the edge of Riverdale, and Kevin draws up to the side of the road. In front of them is the bridge out of town; just past, and around a bend, the police are cordoning off a portion of Sweetwater River.

She slides from the truck, bouncing a bit on the balls of her feet, stretching her limbs and muscles.

“Good luck, Betty,” says Kevin, and then he pulls the car around and goes for a circular drive, knowing that he’ll be back in an hour to pick her up – they’ve done this enough now.

Betty inhales deeply and steps onto the bridge, moving from the sidewalk to the metal banister, running her gloved fingertips on top lightly as she walks across. Once she’s at the other side, she stops, fingers still on the metal. She looks up one side of the street, and then the other.

It’s clear in both directions.

She pulls off the glove and rests her bare hand on the metal. Immediately, it begins to heat up and the air around her crackles. The smell of ozone, a heady scent that hovers in the air just before a thunderstorm erupts, permeates the air around her. If her hair wasn’t tied back, Betty knows it would be a fizzy mess.

Tiny sparks of yellow light begin to form around her fingers, jumping from one to the other and up around her wrist. They are warm, and the more they appear, the colour changes from a deep yellow to pure, blinding white. The electricity begins to arc up her leather jacket, until her entire body is glowing.

(Kevin once said she lit up like a damn firefly when it first happened.)

The air around her is heavy, and her ponytail is starting to lift. Everything is cracking, soft _snap crackle pop_ like Rice Krispies cereal, and then—

There is a loud booming _crack_.

Betty is gone, nothing but a black mark on the sidewalk where she stood.

She reappears further down the river, on the other side of the shore from where the police are, hidden in the trees and bushes, with an equally loud _crack_. There is a loud squawk from the officers on the scene, many looking up at the overcast night, wondering if rain was predicted or not. They begin rushing around, setting up their tape and a few more hurriedly take photos.

At the same time, immediately upon appearing, a bush on her left bursts into flames from her lightning appearance.

“Shit,” she mutters, throwing her body on it and smothering the bush.

The fire quickly goes out, and she pops her head up to check if the fire caught the police’s attention. It hasn’t – they are focused on a white body bag and the surrounding area. She recognizes Kevin’s father in his tan sheriff uniform and tall hat, directing people back and forth, highlighted by the headlights of a police cruiser. Overall, not much is going on, and she’s beginning to wonder whether this was a waste of time. She’s crouched in the bushes, staring across a still river, and her bum is going numb.

Just as she is about to stand and leave, two new people arrive on the scene. The woman begins wailing while her husband holds her back.

Betty’s heart drops, because she knows that couple. She doesn’t like them, and she isn’t fond of their children, but something in her shifts when the woman’s wails reach her ears.

_“Jason!”_

Betty stands, stumbling back, and then she is running through the woods, away from the scene. She is pushing branches away, her feet pounding hard on the forest ground, and her breaths are harsh pants.

 _Jason,_ she thinks, horrified because crime has never touched her directly before, in the two years she had taken on the mantle of being a superhero. _Polly’s boyfriend_.

She erupts from Eversgreen Forest onto an empty side street, just down from the Sunnyside trailer park. Betty can see the twinkling lights of a few of the trailers through the trees. An abandoned and graffiti-covered playground is to her left.

No one is around, and Betty allows herself weakness, leaning over and breathing deeply through her mouth. She feels a building sensation in her throat, one that is hot and thick. Scrambling, she pulls the cowl down and then retches just a little, throwing up some of the milkshake and burger she ate earlier at Pop’s with Kevin. She wipes the back of her hand against her mouth, tears leaking from her eyes.

 _How am I going to face Polly?_ She wonders, closing her eyes, the tears still silently falling. Betty remains in that position, crouched next to a playground in a rough part of town, until—

 _Click_.

Her eyes open, and she yanks her cowl up, covering her face. She turns in the direction of the noise in one swift movement. Her eyes scan the darkness, and—

 _There!_ She thinks, and out loud, shouts, “Hey!”

The figure startles, fumbling with the camera in their hands, and bursts out from behind the jungle gym, weaving through rubbish and discarded bits and bobs around the trailer park, until Betty can’t see them, or their denim jacket, anymore. She wants to take off after them, but her feet are frozen and she is numb. Tomorrow, at school, they will all know about Jason, and maybe her, too.

 _Did they see my face?_ She is horrified that her career as a superhero could be over before she even had a chance to make a mark. _I can just see it now –_ crazy _Betty Cooper, wandering around Riverdale late at night with a mask and costume. Who does she think she is?_

Instead, Betty turns and trudges around the trailer park until she is near Sweetwater Bridge where Kevin dropped her off. His dad’s truck is parked at the curb, and he is sitting with his feet up on the dash. His face is lit by his cell phone, and he is intently swiping left or right. When he spots Betty, his feet drop and he starts the engine.

“So, what was it?” he asks, excitement in his voice. “Did you see the body?”

Betty looks at him and wonders how the drama of a dead body in Riverdale can excite him, because all she feels is tired.

“Yeah,” she finally says, looking forward into the dark. “I did.”

“Who is it? Anyone we know?” he asks.

“It’s Jason.” The words leave her mouth without any plan, and sit heavily between them in the quiet of the truck cab.

“What?” croaks Kevin. “Jason... _Blossom_?”

Betty slowly nods.

She hears Kevin breathe out between his teeth, a whistling noise, and the creak of his seat as he sits back.

“Holy shit,” he whispers. “Holy shit.”

“That’s not all,” she continued, wondering if this is how her world ends.

“What else?” he asks.

Betty turns to him. “I ran. After I realized who I saw. I ran and ended up near Sunnyside. I took off my cowl and... and someone was there, Kev. Someone _took my picture._ ”

Kevin’s swear that follows is more creative than the last, and he curls his hands around the steering wheel as he collects himself. Finally, he turns to Betty and says, lowly, “It’ll be okay. We’ll – We’ll deal with it if it happens, okay?”

She nods slowly, hesitantly, and Kevin begins to drive her home. It is only later, when she rests her head on her pillow, and her eyelids drop heavily, that she thinks, _everything is going to change now._

(She is right. But also – so, very wrong.)

The next morning, she trudges into school with her head down. Everyone in the halls is loud, calling back and forth to their friends or laughing at some joke. She hears the familiar noises of lockers slamming and music blaring loudly from someone’s Beats headphones.

No one knows yet that someone is missing; someone will never sit in their class again.

Kevin sidles up to her that morning, looking as tired as she feels. He has a few dark marks under his eyes that she isn’t used to seeing – he is often able to sleep anywhere and anywhen. He leans against the lockers next to hers, and asks, “Anything yet?”

She shakes her head no, but she feels it: the itching sensation between her shoulders, where someone is staring hard at her. She attempts to swing her head casually around the hall, looking for the one person that is out of place.

Ginger and Tina have their eyes glued to their phones, and she knows soon that the two gossip queens of Riverdale High will spread the news of Jason’s death, especially when Ginger gasps loudly and tears come to her eyes. Moose and Reggie are joking by Archie’s locker in their matching blue-and-gold Lettermen jackets, slapping him on the shoulder. The sight of her crush does not fill her with the usual butterflies; how could it, when her own sister’s boyfriend is dead?

Then, she sees it, the familiar denim jacket that has appeared everywhere she went the past two days. Her eyes peruse the figure, starting with the converse-clad feet, and up the ratty blue jeans. A red and black flannel is tied around the teen’s slim waist, and under his jacket is a top with an S on it. Her eyes finally meet his, and she’s blown away by the intensity in his blue eyes as he focuses on her.

He’s eyeing her like he doesn’t know what to make of her – there’s confusion, suspicion, incredulity, and even amusement in his eyes, but everything else on his face his stoic and pale, his lips a firm line across his face.

“Who’s that?” she asks Kevin, just as she notices the beanie on his head, its folds similar to the points of a crown.

Her friend turns, rotating his shoulder along the locker until his back is against the metal instead. He follows her eyes to the teen, who upon seeing her watch him, spins on his heel and strides down the hallway, disappearing in the crowd.

“That?” Kevin frowns. The first bell rings above them. “That’s Jughead Jones. He just transferred here this year from Southside High. Why?”

“Because I think he might have taken the photo of me last night,” she reveals, just as the crowd parts once more.

She sees him standing at the doors, staring right at her. Their eyes meet across the hall. Betty’s body turns to ice. His lips quirk into a tiny smirk, and he brings one hand up to the side of his face, where he flicks off a salute with his index finger.

“Scratch that,” she says through bloodless lips. “He _definitely_ took a picture of me.”

“Shit,” says Kevin, eyes wide as they stare at each other in horror.

 _What a fantastic start to the school year,_ she thinks. _What else is going to go wrong?_

* * *

TBC...

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on Tumblr, [writing-as-tracey](http://writing-as-tracey.tumblr.com), for anything to everything. I like making new friends.
> 
>  **ALSO** : my university library is not letting me renewing my texts anymore, so I have until July 16 to read and take notes for about 13 books. I'm trying to get ahead on them because (a) hubs has friends coming for a visit on Saturday for two weeks from the UK, and (b) this should be the fire under my ass to get my readings done. This means updates on all my stories will be sporadic, as well as 'who the hell knows when', because it'll depend if I'm tired of reading up to my eyeballs about Superman or Batman or convergence culture. RELEASE THE ANXIETY.


End file.
